


i babysat god and he stabbed me with a fork

by surveycorpsjean



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Babysitter Strange, Fluff and Humor, IronStrange, M/M, POV Loki (Marvel), Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), just trust me on this one, thor drops loki off at the sanctum like its fucking daycare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-14 07:44:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15383991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surveycorpsjean/pseuds/surveycorpsjean
Summary: If these two idiots don’t sort out their shit real soon, Loki is going to stab everyone in this room and then himself.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i cannot believe i wrote this, but its my favorite inside joke i have w holtzyboltzy
> 
> i just LAUGH over god babysitter strange

“It’s only for a few weeks,” Thor says.

He’s nervously wringing his hands, which is good. He should be fucking nervous.

“Weeks?  _Weeks!_  It’s going to take you weeksjust to find suitable soil on this _shithole_ _of a planet?!-"_  is what Loki is saying, but through the gag it’s:

“Mhmmhmm! Mhmhm!  _Mhmhm! Nn!!! MMMMMMMMMM-“_

“I’ll take good care of him,” Stephen says softly. “Don’t concern yourself with rushing back.”

Thor claps Stephen on the shoulder and squeezes, brutishly affectionate as bloody always.

“I greatly appreciate your help, Wizard. I would bring my brother along, but not many know him as I do. Earth would have Loki pay for his crimes, and... I can’t argue that one.” Thor pauses, “He is also not trusted to stay when my back is turned.”

What an idiot.

He’s right, but Loki wasn’t going to leave  _just_ yet. Maybe after New Asgard is up and running – if all went well, Loki would rule the petty few with a shiny new throne. You know, get a new crown, maybe a taller scepter.  But if it’s rough sailing then, pfft. Bye.

Still. That doesn’t mean Loki needs a fucking nanny.

“Perfectly understandable. Don’t be afraid to give Tony a call if the government gives you any problems.”

“I don’t fear Stark’s help, I welcome it. To be king is…I never felt I was right for all this.”

But Loki  _is!_ If only Thor would let him  _fucking go-_

“Focus on New Asgard, your people are your first priority,” Stephen says. His eyes snap Loki’s way, just as Loki phases a dagger between his bound fingers.  Damn it. He pockets the knife away, and Stephen turns to walk Thor towards the door. “Let me know if there’s anything else I can do.”

“Please, don’t underestimate my brother,” Thor gestures, turning at the doorstep. “He is very clever. When you start to trust him most, he’ll push you off a horse and tell all your friends.”

Thor frowns at the memory, and Loki snorts behind the gag. It’s even funnier when you learn that Asgardian horses are twelve feet tall with a mouth full of wolf teeth.

“Don’t you worry about Loki,” Stephen smiles. “I’ll have him in bed by eight.”

Slowly. Loki would kill him  _slowly._ With rough, disease ridden knives – the jagged kind, that rip skin on their way out. Mmmm, the broken muscle, the way he’d  _scream._

The door to the sanctum shuts. Stephen turns on his heel and has the downright nerve to smile, “Well then.”

He’s a smug bastard, isn’t he? Tall, demanding, and dressed like Captain America from three thousand years ago.

It  _is_ possible to kill someone with your eyes. Loki is sure of it. If he tries  _just_ hard enough, the Great Doctor Strange will burst into hellfire flames, screeching and melting, skin boiling into lava-

“I guess we can do away with all that, huh?” Stephen waves a hand, and the bonds dissipate from Loki’s wrists. As soon as the gag is off his tongue, Loki slips daggers down his wrists, shoes scrabbling against the squeaky floor of the sanctum.

Just  _one_ puncture to the heart, between the third and fourth rib. A nice, clean slide will do it. Loki is quick.

But Stephen waves a hand and – is he, is he  _yawning!? –_ the daggers burst into bubbles.

“Oh, you won’t need those here.”

Loki hisses, dissipating his civilian clothes and shifting into  _armor,_ tall and intimidating, horns growing from his forehead. He rumbles, eyes cold with the power of his Jötun forefathers.

“I will paint the doors of Helheim with your blood.”

“That sounds nice,” Stephen turns, ascending up the grand staircase. “I’m going to order takeout. Speak now or forever hold your hunger.”

The fool! Only a complete  _imbecile_ would turn their back on the god of mischief. Loki draws a dagger and throws it, pinpoint accurate, with enough force to penetrate through the spine.

That damn cape catches it, and the wizard hardly flinches.

“Try not to break anything,” he waves, and disappears around a corner bookcase.

Loki blinks, offended. Who the hell does this guy think he is? And while we’re at it, doesn’t he know who  _Loki_ is? He destroyed New York! Wielded an infinity stone!

Whatever. Gift horse, and all that. Loki turns for the door and grabs the handle – then yelps, when it singes his hand.

“Did you like that? I call it baby proofing,” Stephen chirps happily. “It’s enchanted, so don’t bother. You’ll melt all the skin off your body before you step one foot out of his sanctum.”

“I know what it is!” Loki screeches. He looks to his palm, blood red and aching. Fucking ouch. “Mark my words, Strange. I will escape this place, and the hellhounds of Niflheim will  _praise_ your death.”

“I’m going to Subway do you want a sandwich?”

“Yes footlong no onion.”  

 

~

 

Loki traces the entire perimeter twice. He only tries to touch the lock on the washroom window because he was  _sure_ it was uncursed, but he doesn’t make the mistake a third time. All the walls, the floorboards, the air vents; they simmer with gold symbols, fading in and out as you approach them.

Loki perches on a chair, knees to his chest, and angrily heals his twice charred hand.

“Your enchantment is sloppy,” Loki sneers. “The energy transfer is pathetic. Your spell would never hold against multiple targets.”

“Then it’s a good thing there’s only one of you,” Stephen says, thumbing through a book. “Put that down.”

Loki looks up and glares. He phases away the illusion on the chair, and sets down the relic with his true form, across the room. He’s not quite sure what it does, but it looks  _sharp,_ and that’s all he really needs to slit Stephen’s throat.

He folds his arms and  _doesn’t_ pout – not at all – up against a wall of Leishun coins. Those Loki does indeed know of, and he happens to slip a few in his pocket.

“Not yours,” Stephen says. Loki clenches his fingers, feeling the coins gone as soon as he grabbed them.

“Ugh!” Loki stalks towards him, hands balled at his sides, “I cannot believe the Ancient One made  _you_ the sorcerer supreme.”

Stephen looks up from his book, uncrossing his legs on the couch. “Oh?”

“The protector of the multiverse!” Loki waves his hands, with a voice. “Oh- look at me, taking refuge on the most  _frail_ planet in the galaxy.”

“At least mine hasn’t exploded.”

 _“Yet._ ”

“Oh get over yourself,” Stephen brings a cup of tea to his lips without his hands. “We already saw your half-assed attempt at world domination. I never thought you the type to make the same mistake twice.” Stephen looks to Loki’s hands. “Well…”

Loki scowls. Stephen is right – he’s not so interested in the global scale destruction, but the asshole doesn’t need to know that. 

“You will be the first to die.”

“I can’t wait.”

 

Loki attempts to kill him thirty-seven times, before Stephen opens a portal into the floor.

“I yield! I yield!” Loki screams, because he is  _not_ going back in there. Strange looks so damn proud of himself, turning back to his little windowsill of squealing houseplants. Loki always detested mandrakes.

He’s taken an inventory of nearly every relic in the sanctum. Only a select few are of any worth to him; but Loki can hardly touch a thing without yellow magic sizzling at his nails. It is, in every possible enunciation of the word: infuriating.

It’s been a long day. His brother dropped him at daycare. The quality of his Subway bread was disappointing. He’s lightheaded from all the yelling. So Loki crosses his arms and sighs.

“Do tell me I have a room.”

“Oh, you’ve finally asked.”

It’s not much. Hardly worth his time –  _you do know I’m a God?_

“A God to who?” Stephen asked, and shut him up real fast. Loki slams the door extra loud, and spends the night pretending he didn’t just get verbally pistol-whipped by another man.

He decides to take inventory. Cursed locks on the window. The bedframe is spellbound to the floor. Ugh, even the mirror is plastic – nothing Loki could make a portal out of. Ugh ugh ugh.

At least the bed is comfortable.

 

~

 

Perhaps there is worse than being locked in one of the largest mystic libraries known to this galaxy.

Loki doesn’t wake any less enraged, but hey – the counter spell to Stephen’s stupid… _baby_ proofing...might be hidden in a book somewhere.

For a moment, it reminds him of home. Mother’s library; floor to ceiling filled with books on every aspect of life, of every planet in existence. Cold marble floors and torches along the walls, dripping in gold and knowledge. It still leaves a hole in his chest to think of. So it’s not worth mulling on.

He sorts through anything vaguely related to the topic of heat spells, and sets up camp specifically in the chair Stephen was sitting in yesterday just to be an asshole.

The sorcerer comes up the stairs and physically pauses to see Loki in his chair. Loki only gets an eyeroll and a flap from his cape, but it’s a small victory.

He’s not sure what the fuck Stephen does all day. Read? Be boring? He disappears for lengths at a time, presumably to see the one they call Wong. Loki met him once. They didn’t get along.

Sometimes little trainee-wizards pass through the door portals, of which are absolutely  _ridden_ in spells, counter spells, and curses. It basically says Loki! Touch me! There’s cool shit in here! and he fucking can’t. It’s torture.

The apprentices stay far, far away from him anyways.

Stephen comes back that afternoon haggard and exhausted. Loki flips through a chapter on transmutative matter and grins, “Rough day at the office?”

“Even you must have some sort of sympathy towards dealing with harpies,” Stephen’s cloak jerks off his shoulders, and it looks heavy by the way he sways with it.

Loki only laughs, “Good. I hope they dig out your eyeballs. I always did love watching them do that.”

Stephen shoots him an unimpressed look and disappears into a distant part of the sanctum.

Loki skims back through the text. Blah blah sacrifice, yada yada blood, something something black magic –  _oh!_ DNA charms.

“Why are you not hiding these from me?” Loki asks into the emptiness of the room, knowing Stephen can hear him. He practices the incantation in the book, mumbling words.

“I’ve read them all.” Stephen steps back around the corner in civilian clothes. He’s carrying bags of strong-smelling food. “The good stuff is all locked up in Kamar-Taj.”

“When did you take a genetic sample?” Loki portals the food out of Stephen’s hand just to fuck with him – but is disappointed when he easily phases it back into his lap.

“Hm?  I never did.”

“Then what of the walls?” Loki gestures. “Your stupid little peons wouldn’t be able to pass through this cesspool if it was just a normal defense spell.”

“It’s more or less generic than that,” Stephen breaks two little sticks and holds them between his fingers. It looks complicated. “I’ve rigged it so that no Jötun can leave this place.”

Loki bristles. “I am an Odinson, a rightful heir to the throne,  _and_ to the title of sorcerer supreme.”

“And, undoubtably Jötun.” Stephen tosses a little container of food, more or less floating it into Loki’s hands. “This is called Chinese food.”

“I do know what it is,” Loki sneers. He peeks inside. “What is it?”

“Meat and rice.”

Stephen hands him a fork. Loki takes the opportunity to try and wedge it under his jaw.

He seems to have actually caught Stephen off guard this time; it’s the first that Stephen has summoned his shields. The fork is now obliterated into nothing, and a pulse spell sends Loki flying back over the chair.

“You’re cleaning this up,” Stephen scowls, wiping rice off the coffee table. “One grain at a time, Mulan style.”

Loki hardly has two daggers in his hands, before a portal opens into the floor, and he’s falling into nothingness.

“Stop resisting,” Stephen says hours later, dropping Loki roughly into his bed. “It’s pointless.”

 

~

 

Stephen is meditating two feet off the ground, fingers curled into a sign showing astral projection. Loki never did like spells that require verbal incantation – it ruins the surprise, doesn’t it?

But Loki doesn’t have a choice this time. He’s absolutely sure that he’s found the counter-curse, now a full sixty two hours into his bloody entrapment. The book is open to the page in front of him, as Loki kneels before the main door of the sanctum.

He repeats the words, curling his fingers, and watches the spell circles glow. Where they once turned clockwise, they start to spin the opposite direction, the gold color turning green.

“Yes!” He whispers, and then screeches like hell when it blows up in his face.

“Babyproofed, remember?”

Loki hurls a knife at Stephen’s ugly forehead, but it flies right through him, and sticks into the wall. Fucking – stupid — astral forms –

“Get your body over here and fight me!” Loki draws more daggers, fingers clutching tight around the hilts. He’s not a child, he is a god! He is thousands of years older than this  _imposter,_ and he deserves to walk free!

“Sorry, I’m working,” Stephen hums, and then disappears behind shattered reality.

But it breaks once more, Wong popping out where Stephen was only seconds before.

“ _AND QUIT THROWING KNIVES INSIDE THE SANCTUM SANCTORUM! WE CANT AFFORD TO REPLACE THE WALLPAPER!”_  

Then poof, gone. Loki flips off what is now, just an empty room. Loki is sensing a theme here.

It takes two whole showers to rid the smell of smoke from his hair. His arms are tender from the healing, and his palms are still a bit raw from taking the base of the blast. Damn you, Strange.

He is going to  _kill_ Thor for putting him through this.

 

~

 

If the only way is through Strange, then so be it. Loki will just have to change up his game.  

The cloak defeats the purpose of any, if all hand-to-hand combat, so Loki will have to be quick. He hides out in his room all day, not coming out for much other than to raid through the pathetic stockpile of food in the kitchen. There isn’t even an earth television in this shithole, it’s so utterly drab.

Loki waits for the sound of the portal, before jerking around the corner. He gets one of Stephen’s arms behind his back, twisting him enough to splay his fingers against Stephen’s PSI points.

It’s a world that flashes; images and memories flickering across his eyes almost too fast. Data, data, so much data, a childhood in the Midwest, years of practice and studying, horrible loss – love and hate and death, becoming nothing –

Shit, he doesn’t hold on long enough. Stephen has him flat on his back, gold spells wrapping around his wrist, gluing him to the floor.

“Fuck!” Loki curses. “I was so close!” He pauses, “You really wore your hair like that in the nineties?”

“I’ve had enough of you,” Stephen rubs his fingers against his head, and Loki takes great pride in the unease in his eyes. “You’re in time-out.”

“Oh, am I going back into the deltaverse again?” Loki rolls his eyes, “You left me in there for an hour yesterday, big fat woop. I’m not so scar-“

The cape flips off his shoulders, wraps Loki up like an infant, and swaddles him up against the wall. It wraps him tight, smothering his mouth, forcing his hands to his sides. Loki kicks and twists, but it only winds tighter.

“You’re coming with me now,” Stephen says, turning on his heel. “We’re going to oversee some new recruits. I hope you like learning about chakras.”

If there is a revenge sweet enough, Loki hasn’t found it yet. But oh, when he does, it will be bloody and glorious. 

 

~

 

“I believe we got off on the wrong foot,” Loki says, outstretching a hand. He shifts nervously on his feet, chewing on his cheek. He watches Stephen’s face, who lets his hand hover between them. Loki clears his throat, “Really, I... it’s been hard, coming back from the dead – surely you know. There’s so much, so much unplaced  _rage._ Perhaps you can, could maybe... teach me control.”

Stephen lifts an eyebrow, “Becoming friends with me won’t release the counter-curse.”

“And if I am being genuine?”

“Then I’ve got a chess board if you’d like to play a game or two.”

“Ugh!” Loki hisses, “You are  _impossible._ I don’t even know why I’m here!”

“Would you like a list?” Stephen asks. “You attacked New York. You are prone to destructive mood swings. There is no immediate way off Earth, and there’s no telling what you’d do in your boredom. Your  _brother_ is out there, slaving away with the remnants of your people, trying to rebuild your society on a Norwegian island, and it’d break him to lose you again.  _That_ is why you are here.”

“That is why I want to  _leave!”_ Loki shouts, and then regrets it. Stephen’s face changes, sensing his moment of honesty.

“Don’t tell me you genuinely wish to help him.”

“Why are you doing this anyways?” Loki crosses his arms. “What’s in it for you?”

“Thor is one of the reasons I’m alive,” Stephen says. The soft look on his face is repulsing. “Same as you.”

Is this a moment? Are they having a moment?

No,  _disgusting –_ Loki is a prince and a god _._  He will not be made a fool.

“I will only ask once more.” Loki demands, “Let me leave.”

“No.”

He recalls Stephen’s memories, and in an instant, he takes the form of Christine Palmer. The look of surprise on Stephen’s face gives him just enough time to get a dagger up against his neck. The cloak grabs his wrist, but the knife nicks him, enough to draw blood, beautiful,  _gorgeous –_

“Loki,” Stephen growls. “Quit this.”

“Oh Stephen,” he says, voice feminine. “Weak in the sight of a lost love.”

Alright. Loki wasn’t expecting the blast to his chest. He fumbles across the room and takes down a glass case on the way. Shards go absolutely everywhere, lovely.

“Fuck!” Loki hisses, crawling off the ground. “I’m the love of your life! You’re super fucked up, you know that?”

“No,” Stephen floats over, fingers raised with spells. “You are Loki of Asgard, and I am your babysitter for the next four weeks.”

There must be a weakness. Something Loki can draw off of – his mother? No, not enough emotional attachment; alcoholic, aloof. Father, no – siblings, no-

“Oh,” Loki breathes, and stands. “Old love, no.” He shapeshifts, body taking on the form of a man, “New love,  _maybe.”_

Stephen freezes. Head to toe. Eyes wide, the most surprised Loki has seen him yet. Fingers hovering, mouth parted from shock. Even if the moment is short lived, Loki doesn’t care because this feels so, so good.

“Ohh, this is most entertaining,” Loki grins, looking at his hands. He pulls the sunshades off his head, and plops them back on. “I always did like the Iron Man’s style.”

“That’s enough.” Strange folds his fingers into a sign, and Loki’s illusion fades.

“Hey!”

“Quit trying to be something you aren’t, and start accepting what you are,” Stephen grits.

“And what’s that?” Loki smiles, snakelike. “A villain?”

Stephen laughs humorlessly, “Oh, I’ve seen villains, Loki.” He turns to leave and says, “You’re not a villain. You are a child.”

 

~

 

He spends the next three days in his room. The mood is tense in the sanctum, which is frankly ridiculous. Loki can’t believe there was mood to begin with.

Now, that’s not to say he’s given up. But Loki is bored of it all.

“What’s this?” Stephen looks to the pad of paper, and takes it when Loki waves it hard enough. “Where’d you get this?”

“These are my demands,” Loki says. “In return for my compliance.”

“Compliance meaning…you’ll quit trying to kill me.”

“…I will not stab you.”

Stephen reads through the list, some of it aloud, “A larger pillow. A finer selection of books. Cable television? You watch T.V.?”

Loki rolls his eyes, “Do you accept or not?”

Stephen hums. “No full length mirror. You know I’m a portal mystic, right?”

“Whatever. But I petition for better food.”

The asshole actually laughs, “Alright, I’ll agree with you there. I accept your terms.”

“That’s more like it,” Loki turns back around, and stalks towards his room. “I demand better reading materials by tonight, the majority of your library is boring.”

“You read Sanskrit?” 

Loki scoffs, “Who do you think wrote the language?”

 

By nightfall, there’s a pile of books written in hieroglyphics stacked outside his door. It’s moderately new text, only a couple thousand years old or so. Loki has read spell books older than this  _planet_. The language is interesting to study anyways.

There’s a funny little note from Wong:  _damage these books, and I will hang you from your entrails._

Classy. Loki would like to think he has a little more tact than that.

His room gets stuffy without a proper window, so Loki has taken full claim over Stephen’s chair. The wizard seems content to pick his battles, which is all the more infuriating.

Days pass like molasses. Loki finds entertainment in practicing spells.

Stephen patters around the kitchen, and Loki cackles from the main room. As Strange picks up a saltshaker, Loki turns it to a bat. The whisk, a broomstick. A fork, now a spoon.

“Really?” Stephen shifts it back into a fork, and goes to take a bite of pasta. Loki turns it to a butter knife this time, laughing as the noodles slither down onto his plate. Stephen slaps his hand against the table and barks, “You are the Webster definition of a  _brat._ ”

“Thank you,” Loki says, and turns Stephen’s barstool into a goat.

Fuck this asshole and his quick counter-reaction time; in an instant, Stephen is sitting back on a barstool, and it’s Loki who is sitting country sidesaddle atop an Alpine.

“Please get your act together by this afternoon,” Stephen says. “I have a guest coming over.”

“Oh, I’ll be sure to turn their hair into snakes,” Loki hisses. The goat gives a sad bleat before it is once more, a chair. If it’s Wong, then – fuck, Loki will just tape the snakes to his ears, or something.

Stephen spins, and delivers a glare that is, Loki will admit, quite intimidating.

“If you even  _touch_ him, I will not hesitate to lock you in a pocket dimension for the rest of your time here.”

Him.

“Oh,” Loki blinks. “Stark is bothering to visit? I thought he wasn’t a fan of the mystic arts,” Loki snaps the light of a lamp on, just for dramatic flare.

Stephen gives an eyeroll, “I need his advice.”

“Uh, hello? God? Right here?”

“If I wanted the opinion of a narcissistic criminal I’d take a trip to the county jail.”

“So Stark is the better option here?”

Stephen gets so-very serious when it comes to Tony, and it’s a soft spot that Loki is going to enjoy pushing very much.

 

~

 

Loki has grown used to the sound of a spinning portal. He hears it all goddamn day; whoosh whoosh, fucking whoosh. In and out and in and out, blatantly rubbing it in Loki’s face.

He waits for two voices, before he sneaks around the corner wall. He presses his ear against the wallpaper and listens.

“I hate how efficient these are – I spend a quarter of a billion dollars trying to reach a supersonic force that takes me to Paris for breakfast, and all you need is some jewelry.”

“That is…overly simplified.”

“Yeah, blah blah study and practice. How are the roommate troubles?” He can hear Tony pick something up, and half-heartedly set it back down.

“Loki? He’s easy to deal with.” Loki bristles, and Stephen continues, “He gets dejected if I don’t respond every so often.”

“So you’ll throw him a bone?”

“Just to give him a sense of accomplishment, yes.”

Alright, fucker. Two can play at this game. Loki mumbles a spell and opens a viewport into the room. It’s filled with relics, just like every other spare inch of this dump. Tony is leaning against a table, chewing gum with an irritating amount of ease.

“I’m not so excited about you mothering a mass murderer.”

“I’m only keeping him out of trouble until Thor makes a decision.” Stephen sighs, “He did help us defeat Thanos.”

“Dude, only because it was in his own self-interest!” Tony pauses, “How do you even know Thor? Is there a Space Linkedin that I don’t know about?”

“This isn’t why you’re here,” Stephen brings up a mystic map of this realm, and zooms in on earth. “We’ve received a message from another planet.”

“Oh?”

“It’s…not something I can decipher,” Stephen says. He looks to Tony, and Loki quietly gags. He’s got little stars in his eyes and everything. “We’ve been researching the language, but it’s – it’s mechanical.”

“Hmmm,” Tony wiggles his fingers by his ear. “Lemme’ hear it.”

Stephen draws up a symbol, and the sound waves reverberate around the room. It’s a grinding, horrible screeching. The message ends, and Tony frowns, “It sounds like a bad engine. Friday, you got that?”

_“Recorded, sir.”_

“I’ll see what I can do,” Tony leans off the table, and tips his head to look up at Strange. “Let’s hope it’s not a threat. I’m getting real tired of those.”

“That’s from Kandora,” Loki says, rearing around the corner. Stephen hardly spares him a glance, but Tony tenses.

“Hey,” Tony points, “I thought you locked up Joan Jett here?”

Loki self-consciously runs a hand through his hair. Stephen snorts.

“He can’t leave the sanctum.”

“Shut up,” Loki sneers. “That language is Kandorian.”

“Do you speak it?”

“No. And they’re not inherently friendly, either.” Loki tugs on his collar, “I wouldn’t still be here when they arrive.”

“Great,” Tony rolls his eyes. “Now I gotta’ drag Cap into this.”

“Let’s figure out what they said, first,” Stephen says. His hand rests atop Tony’s shoulder for only a moment, before slipping to the other side of the room to thumb through books. Wow, subtle. “I might be able to find something on Kandora, now that I have a name.”  

“Let’s do it over lunch,” Tony says. “I’m minutes away from passing out on your floor.”

Stephen decides on a book and slips it under his arm. He shifts into civvies, and nods, “Can’t have that, then.”

Tony leads the way, “I’m never going to get used to your normal people clothes.”

“Weird, seeing as I’m a  _normal_ person.”

“No, you’re like – the wizard! Whenever I see you you’re always flying around and casting fairy spells.” A pause, “Oh my god do you have an owl?”

“No.”

“I could make you one.”

“You could  _make_ me an owl?”

A portal glows amidst the furniture, and the two disappear. Ugh, good riddance.

“You’re a bad flirt, Strange!” Loki yells into the sanctum, and a broom falls behind him, smacking right into his shoulder.

 

~

 

“Who cares if he isn’t the father!” Loki shouts. “Pick yourself up by your pigtails and be proud! Wear your battlescars and take the helm!”

Stephen leans into the room, “Are you watching the Jerry Springer show?”

“Why is there so much crying?” Loki gestures, “New flash, fathers are terrible, time to televise about it for an hour.”

“Glad to know that’s universal across multiple realms,” Stephen says.

Loki avoids the hole that opens in his chest. “Yes, well. You could call it personal experience.”

“You put a spell on Odin’s mind, locked him in an old-folks home and stole his throne,” Stephen deadpans. “Are you sure  _he_ was the asshole here?”

“Yes!” Loki snaps. Stephen lifts up his hands in a  _hey, I’m not emotionally invested in this conversation_ kind of way, which is only that much more annoying. “Whatever,” Loki huffs. “I could produce a play with much more emotive dexterity than this.  _True_ drama.”

Stephen snorts, “I’m sure you could.”

“Quit being sarcastic, it’s unbecoming of you.”

“I think it’s entirely becoming of me.” Stephen’s phone beeps, and he glances at it. Oh yeah – speaking of. Loki reaches in his pocket and pulls out his phone, quickly sending a message and tucking it away. He glances back up, and Stephen is staring slack jawed. “Where did you get that?”

Loki sucks on a jolly rancher, “Calm down princess, it’s none of your business.”

“I actually don’t want to know.” Stephen shifts into civilian clothes, and adjusts his sling ring, “I have to go pick up Tony. He says he made progress with the message.”

Loki looks him up and down, and hums, “A polo shirt, really? Don’t take ‘dress to impress’ too seriously, my dearest.”

The look on Stephen’s face almost makes him laugh. “And what’s wrong with my shirt?”

“Uh, everything?” Loki gestures with the remote, “You certainly won’t get laid in that.”

“We’re not – it’s not like that.”

“Just put on the shirt you wore earlier. At least you can go for that rugged, I-roll-up-my-sleeves-because-I’m-cool look.”

“Shut up,” Stephen focuses on a portal, circling his hand. “I’m not trying to impress Tony.”

“And I’m the queen of Scotland.”

“It’s England.”

“Same difference.”

Stephen ignores him, and walks through the portal.

Loki calls after him, “Change your stupid shirt!” And at the very last moment, Loki sees him do so. A solid win.

 

~

 

 _“Stephen!”_ Tony shouts, flinging open the front door to the sanctum.  _“Loki is Twitter famous!”_

Loki barely looks up from the book he’s reading, but he sees Stephen scramble over to the railing above the stairs.

“Did you drive here?!”

“Look at this!” Tony skips up the stairs, holding up his phone. “Half a million followers." 

“What now?”

“Look,” Tony scrolls down the screen, hovering into Stephen’s space.  _“Earth food is just foliage seasoned with grated rocks.”_ He reads another: “ _Polo shirt & khakis. Leave it to a supreme to botch seduction #burnyourcloset." _Stephen’s face goes utterly red, but Tony barrels on, “He’s a shitposter, Stephen. The god of mischief is a shitposter, and he’s living in your house.”

“He technically isn’t hurting anyone…” Stephen says slowly, trying to swallow away the red on his face. Another victory to Loki, ding ding ding, thank you.

“Besides starting fights on Twitter.” Tony takes his phone back, still scrolling. “Everyone is arguing over it being really him.”

“Perhaps I should livestream,” Loki blinks as innocently as he can manage.

“No!” Tony and Stephen shout together.

“Why not?”

“The government will find you, and they will take you far far away,” Tony explains, like he’s fucking stupid.

“Wait, maybe thats not so bad,” Stephen says.

Loki rolls his eyes, “Then I’ll kill them all.”

“Loki, no.”

“Plot twist, but this isn’t why I’m here,” Tony interjects. “Loki, I need you to tell me everything you know about Kandora.”

“Why should I?”

“Because you were right,” Tony says, finally speaking some sense around here. “The message wasn’t friendly.”

Stephen tenses, “You deciphered it? How?”

“My Go-Go Gadget suitcase-“   

Friday interjects on Tony’s phone speaker.  _“Each sound, slowed down by 5.9%, resembled ticks on a clock. Each tick signified one of the twelve substitutes in a homophonic cipher.”_

“Not very progressive, I’d say.”

“Homo _phonic,_ Loki.”

“FRIDAY, tell ‘em what it said.”

_“Seven sols, seven corpses.”_

“That’s nice,” Stephen sighs. “Loki, what are we in for?”

Loki kicks his feet up on the coffee table, “Hmmm…this sounds like a  _you_ problem.”

Tony crosses his arms, frowning.

“Do not be that guy right now.”

“Oh, I’m going to be that guy right now.”

Stephen pinches the bridge of his nose, mumbling something to himself. He exhales harshly, and looks at Loki like he’s the sun; squinting angrily and against his own will.

“If you give us  _viable_ information, I will buy you a full-length mirror.”

Loki sits up. “You have my attention.”

“It will be spellbound.”

“Throw in a PS4 and we have a deal.”

“Is this really a conversation we’re having right now?” Tony gapes.

“Fine,” Stephen huffs. “What of Kandora?”

“Mechanical planet,” Loki waves a hand around. “They are organic robots. Rough on the outside, squishy and gross on the inside. They run off a hive mind, and the only way through is the queen.”

“What do they want?”

“They colonize planets,” Loki shrugs. “Father had a real fun time trying to keep them out of the nine realms. It seems the destruction of Asgard has caught their attention.”

“I need to see Shuri,” Tony snaps his fingers, “Right now, right now. We need to talk defense, we need to talk EMPs, we need –“

“Tony, it’s okay-“

Tony grabs Stephen by the collar of his cape, and drags him down to his level.

“Take me to Wakanda.”

To Stephen’s credit, he doesn’t blush this time. But Loki does see his jagged fingers shake more than usual. Loki manages not to laugh.

“Take a deep breath,” Stephen says. He braces his fingers against Tony's cheeks, long, red-scarred ones. They almost swallow Tony up completely. “We’ll stop them before they even step foot on earth.”

Loki puts his head in his hand, and waits for them to kiss already. Stephen looks his way, and Loki mouths  _get on with it._ Stephen mouths back:  _shut up._

“Okay,” Tony exhales. “Okay. Wakanda, now.”

Stephen clears his throat and steps back, a little ways out of Tony’s reach. He spins his fingers, and a portal opens, grass plains and mountains glowing through the circle. Tony steps through, shoulders squared, game face on. Loki can respect that. Maybe Strange is onto something here. 

“Be good,” Stephen points, but is lighthearted about it. Oh, we’re joking now, are we? Is that what we’re doing?

Okay.

“Choke and die," Loki smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this goes without saying but dont take this seriously


	2. Chapter 2

 

The upcoming days are quiet. Loki doesn’t see Stephen, or Wong, or Tony, or any apprentice scuttle through. No portals, no experiments, no magic.

Well, some magic. The sanctum still cleans itself and food pops in the fridge every so often, but he assumes that’s still the work of Stephen.

Well, good then! Loki will enjoy the silence. He takes a looong bath and paints his nails and watches a movie about princesses and brides and eats all the marshmallows in the pantry.

Loki grows bored by the second day.

He’s no good at Fortnite and Assassins Creed was boring after, hm, ten minutes. It’s simply unrealistic: stabbing people in real life is way more fun and definitely less tedious.

 Books hold his attention longer than anything else. He learns how to summon a ball of plasma, and spends the afternoon throwing it up against the impenetrable wall. The symbols always glow bright yellow, before spitting the ball right back. Loki catches it, and chucks it, catch – chuck – bounce – catch – chuck – bounce- catch – chuck –

A portal opens, and Stephen evaporates the plasma before it can smack him in the face. Damn, that would’ve been convenient and awesome.

“Hey Loki!” Tony shouts, stepping out of the wall, “I brought you a playdate!”

Loki sits up, “Excuse you?”

There’s a child in the room. A human child. With a backpack and a hoodie and a  _child_ is  _here –_

“Hello Mr. Loki,” he sticks out his hand, “I’m Peter Parker.”

“Why have you brought me an infant,” Loki stares.

“He’s seventeen, and-“ Tony lifts an eyebrow. “You don’t know who he is?”

“Oh no!” Peter covers his mouth, “I just told a villain my secret identity.”

“He’s Spiderman,” Tony deadpans.

“Mr. Stark!”

“What’s he going to do,  _tweet_ about it?”

“He might!”

“I don’t care who you are, why are you here?” Loki asks.

“Haven’t you ever heard of bring your child to work day?” Tony sniffs.

Peter laughs, “We were doing some tweaks on my suit, and then Doctor Strange showed up.” Peter looks up at the walls and marvels, “Wow, you collect a lot of cool things Mr. Doctor.”

Stephen appears as if he’s already given up, “It’s not inherently  _my_ collection-”

“Hey,” Tony snaps, “you said you had shit to show me.”

“Right,” Stephen nods. “You two behave.” He gestures for Tony to follow.

“Don’t touch anything!” Tony calls, but gives a wink directly at Peter, and turns down the hallway.

It goes silent. Loki stares the kid down.

He’s not very muscular. Not very intimidating either. They let children join the Avengers?

Peter coughs, and finds interest in reading a plaque he definitely doesn’t understand. He’s kind of awkward, isn’t he?

Loki scratches down his chin. Sniffs. “Spiders, huh?”

Peter nearly knocks over a spear. He rights it, and turns too quickly. “Hm? Uh- yeah.”

Loki lifts a brow, “You are human?”

“Yeah,” Peter says slowly. “You’re…not.” Once he realizes that Loki is indeed not going to eat him, he beams, “What’s it like being brothers with Thor?”

Loki rolls his eyes, “Oh here we go.”

“No, really! He seems so big and nice.”

“He is continually an annoying paste of gum stuck to my shoe,” Loki drawls.

“Oh,” Peter blinks. “Well um. He’s probably just jealous of your cool hat.”

Ba-dump.

“You are right,” Loki crosses his arms. “What is it you do?”

“Um, I uh. I go to school and I’m a mathlete-“

“As a hero,” Loki adds.

 “Oh! I buy churros for old ladies! And stop bank robberies, sometimes. And one time I got this cat out of a tree and it followed me home and now his name is Pancake.”

Loki is going to protect this child with his life.

Peter trails his fingers along the edge of a display case. Inside is a small whicker doll. Loki stands up, and clasps his hands behind his back.

“You’d like that.”  

“Huh?”

“It’s called Rathburn’s Celest,” Loki says. “Pick it up.”

Peter looks at him skeptically, “What does it do?”

“Just pick it up.”

“I’m sorry sir, but Tony told me not to trust you.”

Loki sighs, “The cases are hexed, I can’t open them, otherwise I would. Aren’t you curious?”

“It looks super creepy. What if it comes alive and eats me?”

“Surely you can defend yourself against a straw doll.”

Peter blinks. He slowly unhooks the lock on the case, and sticks his hand inside. As soon as his fingers wrap around the doll, the color changes.

“Woah!”

“It’s-“

“-Convertible matter!” Peter gasps. “It’s fabric now!”

“Yes,” Loki says. He takes it from him, “State an element.”

“Uh, Iron.”

The doll turns to iron. Peter rips it from him and gasps, “Wow – can I say any element?”

“Any source of matter.”

“Diamond.”

It turns to a crystal white, jagged and cut but still in the form of an angel.

“This could be dangerous,” Peter blinks. “I bet a lot of people would like to have this.”

“They would pay a fine sum for it too.” Loki watches him change it to rubber, then gold, then back to straw.

“That’s really cool, dude.” Peter says. “I asked Doctor Strange if he’d teach me how to make those little portals so I wouldn’t have to ride the bus anymore, but he said no.”

Loki grins, “I can show you something cool.”

 

Later, when Stephen is yelling about the scorch marks on a three thousand year old rug, and Tony is laughing his ass off against the wall, Loki slips his number into Peter’s pocket, along with a note to bring him a Churro next time.

 

~

 

_“If you ain’t got no money take your broke ass ho-“_

“What the  _hell_ is that?”

“My phone,” Loki yawns, and checks the collar ID. He snorts, “Your boyfriend is facetiming me.”

“My what _-_ “

“Is the world already ending?” Loki answers.

The connection is spotty at best. A clearer picture has him rolling his eyes.

_“Brother!”_

“Nope, fuck this.”

 _“I’m pleased to see you’re still alive,”_ Thor smiles.  _“We’ve been working hard here, as you can see.”_  Thor pans the camera around. Or, tries to.

“It looks…green.”

 _“This is home!”_ Thor says.  _“What father spoke of-“_

 _“What’s up, twink!”_ Tony waves from the bottom corner, where Loki can barley make out the tip of his head.  _“Thor- hold the- fuck quit flipping the camera around – there!”_  Tony coughs,  _“Thought you’d like to make a phone call. You’re usually obligated to at least one.”_

Loki can see Stephen trying to sneak a glance at his phone, without directly appearing in the camera. “I’m hanging up,” Loki says loudly to all parties involved.

_“Brother no! I’ve missed speaking with you-“_

“Yes well, I’m going to murder you and toss your mammoth body off a waterfall, so don’t come visit.”

 _“Don’t be angry. You wouldn’t like the work here anyways, the rain has kept it a menace.”_  Hm, well. He’s probably right, but Loki won’t tell him that. Thor brings the phone closer to his face, too close –  _“How is the wizard?”_

“Oh, we’re best friends,” Stephen says.

“I’d sell you for a tic tac.”

 “The best, really.”

Thor is laughing on the other end, but the audio cuts out a bit.  _“-ad you two ar – along. I thou- be -dead by now.”_

“Not without lack of trying,” Loki says through gritted teeth.

 _“Hey, remember me?”_  Tony grabs the phone back. The signal gets clearer almost immediately, as if it knows better.  _“Doc, Thor doesn’t know jack shit about Kandora, but he’s on board to fight robot bitches.”_

Thor gives a piece sign.

Stephen is skeptical, “How does Loki know of them, and yet Thor doesn’t?”

 _“I’ve been to all four corners of the universe, but Loki always manages to find the crevices,”_ Thor says. Loki wishes Thor was here so he could punch him in person. Actually.

Loki turns to Strange and demands, “Bring my brother here so I can punch him.”

 _“Sorry, I must go-“_ Thor says conveniently,  _“-they need my help again. Bye!”_

Tony sighs, and his eyes flicker the screen, searching obviously for Stephen’s face. His voice goes soft,  _“Meet me for dinner? We need to get on the same page.”_

“Oh I’d love to, candlelit by the seaside?” Loki flirts. Stephen tenses on instinct, and it’s just way too easy.  

_“Not you, drama queen. Talk to me when you’re off house arrest.”_

“Wong and I are finishing preparations with the London sanctum,” Stephen interjects. “But I’ll come find you by this evening.”

_“Your evening or my evening?”_

“Three hours, and I’m paying this time.”

_“Fat chance, you bought me that Quesadilla yesterday-“_

“That hardly counts-“

“Use your own phone bye!” Loki says in one breath, and hangs up. He turns to Stephen, “Are you fucking serious?”

Stephen bristles, “What?” He’s way less intimidating without the cloak. More puppy like.

“Will you two just sort your shit already? If the boredom doesn’t kill me, this definitely will.”

“We are just friends,” Stephen grits.

Loki makes a strangling gesture with his hands, “Oh my god! I’m going to kill myself! I was in your head, moron. I know you’re pathetically in love with him.”

“He’s happy with Pepper,” Stephen sighs. He scrubs a hand through his hair, and it’s the most…open Loki has seen him. Messy. “This will pass soon.”

Loki picks up a pillow and smacks him with it, and Stephen doesn’t even bother to catch it. “Read a fucking tabloid, Earth  _Jesus._ They broke up three months ago.”

Stephen is gobsmacked. “They broke up?”

Loki pauses. Looks at the wall. Looks at Stephen. “Aren’t you friends? What the hell do you guys usually talk about?”

“Biological engineering,” Stephen says slowly.  “There was this really interesting article published to a science journal last year abou-“

Loki pinches the bridge of his nose and wheezes, “I am moments away from locking you two in a closet.”

Stephen hums, “Counterproductive, wouldn’t you think?”

Every cell in Loki’s body wants to shove a blade into Stephen’s forehead – but he values his new PS4 too much, so he narrowly resists. Only just.

“Figure it out,” Loki points, “Or I’ll do it for you. That is a threat.”

 

 ~

 

That night:

**LowKey**

@ihateithere001

_in the realm of ignorance, get involved. sometimes you must kick the god of fate off a cliff and become her yourself, because i’m surrounded by fucking morons._

18,410 RETWEETS   25,892 LIKES

 

~

 

The tension is at it’s peak. A straining, crackling energy. Loki narrows his eyes. Wong narrows his in return.

Slowly, Loki raises a hand. Wong leans forwards, just an inch.

“If you use your Æsir, I  _will_ know,” Wong says.

“It’s merely a human bone,” Loki says, slowly grasping the tool. “I wouldn’t dare use magic with something so trivial.”

“I don’t believe you for a second, trickster.”

Loki reaches in, slow, past the muscle of the leg. Cautiously, he digs around in red, careful not to jab a nerve.

Stephen walks past them. Pauses. Backs up a pace.

“Is that Operation?”

“Quiet, Strange!” Loki barks. “I require the utmost amount of concentration.”

 “Wong, you’re here to help me sort records.”

“I am,” Wong says, waving his fingers, and summoning a pile of ancient parchment into Stephen’s open arms. “You are slow.”  

Stephen thumbs through it. Wait what? Loki hits the metal and it buzzes.

“Damn it!”

“Congratulations, your patient will die of typhoid and lose his leg within the month,” Wong says.

“Shut up.”

“It depends on the infection,” Stephen says. “The size of the swelling depends on the size of the incision. In the most severe cases, if the bone extraction is failed, he’ll die before the leg does.”

“I quit,” Loki says. “I was only playing this intolerable game to annoy Wong into forgetting his work, and I obviously failed, so. Goodnight.”

Wong looks too satisfied. Loki turns his belt into a snake and runs.

He makes it to the end of the hallway before he’s portaled back into the chair. Hey, new record.

 

~

 

“Nope. Nope. No, gross, no,” Loki magically swipes his way through Stephen’s closet from across the room. “Vertical stripes, really?”

“I sold most of my clothes when I, you know.”

“Had an existential crisis and joined a cult?”

“You can’t join in on inside jokes you weren’t there for, I don’t care if you read my mind.” Stephen lifts up a simple white button down, “How’s this?”

“You want to look sexy, not take his order,” Loki flicks his hand and sends it back on the hook. “You need something to show off your body. We’re working with the bare minimum here.”

“And what makes _you_ the fashion expert?”

“I’ve seen Queer Eye and you haven’t.”

Stephen sighs, “I made a real mistake getting rid of that muzzle.”

The wizard has a normal bedroom, not too much larger than Loki’s, but he definitely has a bigger closet. It’s completely unfair, because Stephen hardly has any clothes. Anything decent, at least.

Loki kicks back on Stephen’s bed. The faster this goes, the faster Tony and Stephen can hook up and be out of Loki’s hair. Also it’s super funny to see Stephen Strange be not-perfect at something. Loki will continue to rub that in Stephen’s face.

“Oooh,” Loki draws out a tailored shirt, with a patterned undercollar and cuffs. “How’s this fit you?” Stephen shifts it on in under a second, and Loki hums. “Spin.”

“This is ridiculous."

“You need to start trying. We all know it’s not worth competing with Tony’s superior fashion sense, but the best you can do is attempt to keep up.” Loki frowns, “A nice belt and you might look fuckable.”

“And that’s bad?”

“No, the color is shit-brown and it definitely clashes with your weird laser eyes.”

“Wow, thanks,” Stephen deadpans.

“Here,” Loki flicks his wrist, and turns it maroon.

Stephen laughs, “Will I change back at midnight, fairy godmother?”

“Are you referring to something?”

“Stop pretending you didn’t get that,” Stephen puts on a suit jacket, and tugs down the lapels. “Can you leave already?”

“Remember, we’re  _trying_ tonight,” Loki points. “That means the full stops. Laughing at his bad jokes, taking interest in his stupid hobbies – and breath mints, lots of them.”

Stephen mumbles, “His hobbies aren’t stupid and his jokes aren’t bad.”

“See! You’re already halfway there.” Loki phases a box of Altoids into his hand, and tosses them Stephen’s way. “Now just bat your eyelashes and flirt like your life depends on it.”

“I know how to flirt,” Stephen says, checking his hair in the mirror. “Get out of my room.”

“No way, you have the bigger T.V.” Loki has hardly finished speaking, but he’s already been phased into his own room.

Loki crosses his arms, and counts. One, one-thousand. Two one-thousand.  The sound of a sports-car. A front door opens and shuts. Yawn.

A hundred-one thousand, a hundred and one-one-thousand-

Loki pulls a book from beneath his bed.  _“The Larzac Inscription: Iberian Prime.”_

Loki was never sure how Heimdall did it. But this will be his best attempt. He draws out the hair he stole off of Stephen’s shirt, and stretches it, turning it lime green, before twisting it into a sigil. It glows, and then opens a mystic window; a perfect viewing portal on Stephen.

Alright! That’s more like it.

What? You thought Loki would just leave him be? No. Loki is invested now. He has chips in.

It’s boring for a long while. Talking talking talking, wow, they talk a  _lot._ Expectedly, and yet. Loki leaves and comes back with a box of cosmic brownies. He waits.

“Come on,” Loki gestures. “Put your arm around him or  _something._ ”

Nope, boring car ride. They pull up to a very expensive restaurant; Tony valets, nice. See, he’s dressed right! Tom Ford, brogues, top button undone. He gelled his hair, so it’s  _painfully_ obvious that Tony likes him back. This is infuriating.

Stephen laughs at something Tony says – it’s deep and genuine, and Loki starts paying attention to the conversation.

_“Yeah, I was never a kid for sports. Kinda’ wished I was though, now the muscle would be real convenient.”_

_“How heavy is the suit, really?”_

_“It’s not the suit, it’s the flying. All core, sweetheart. Of course I run stabilizers in my chest to keep a little bit of the weight off my arms, but quick maneuvers always leave me sore the next day.”_

Stephen looks at Tony like he’s his whole fucking world. For a minute, Loki almost feels for the guy. 

The most exciting part of the evening is when Tony drops a fork off his plate, and they both catch it, reflex fast. For a second, Loki thinks they might have a moment here. He leans forward, holding his breath - but they laugh it off, and Loki smacks his head against the wall. 

By the end, they don't even hug. They refuse to acknowledge that it was a  _date,_ (which is exactly what it was, holy shit can they be any more oblivious). Tony offers to drive Stephen home. Stephen is the biggest moron of all space and time, and politely declines. This is dramatic irony at it's worst. 

 

~

 

It's only been a week, but Loki is on the verge of giving up. The only thing anyone seems to care about is this _possible_ invasion. Which, okay, whatever, but there's worse happenings out there. Like how two of the smartest minds on the planet are also the stupidest. Loki pulls his knees to his chest and texts Peter without looking. 

 

**6:15 P.M.**

_This meeting is pointless. They are only here to flirt_   **<**

 

**6:16 P.M.**

**>**   _i wish u could leave the house :/_

 **>**   _we could trick them into like, going ice skating or something!_

 

There's an additional few avengers here today, Wong included. Maybe nobody will notice if Loki just- 

He flicks his fingers and yanks the rug out from under Tony. He's standing so close to Stephen that there's no other choice but for them to crash. Tony immediately rights himself, cursing, "Jesus! Sorry." 

Stephen is immediately suspicious, but he politely sets his hands on Tony's shoulders, and then lets go, "You're fine." 

Loki immediately texts: 

 

**6:18 P.M.**

_they're hopeless < _

 

 

What is his name? Road? Roadie? Tony's friend is glaring daggers, and it's cute, so Loki waves. He gives a horrified look and turns away when Loki winks at him. 

He puts in more effort into their foolish relationship than anything else, and Stephen’s fury is only a plus. But Loki does actually try.

You know, knocking them into each other. Flirting to cause jealousy. Subtly spritzing Stephen with cologne before he opens the door. Putting ants in his cereal (alright, that had nothing to do with it other than being hilarious). They're just too stubborn. 

Maybe fate herself couldn't make this work. 

 

~

 

Loki isn't really counting, when it happens. How many days has he been here? How much longer does he have? Who knows anymore. 

But the ceiling caves, and Stephen comes jumping through a portal, tucking and rolling, half caked in blood. He skids across the room, groaning, hardly even able to get to his knees. 

Loki blinks, "Did I miss the party? The invasion was today, wasn't it. Tsk my calendar." 

"Loki," Stephen breathes. There's a gash down the side of his neck, and it's...it's ugly. He coughs, and the muscles in his neck move with it. With horribly shaking hands, he makes a sigil. "Loki, you need to leave this place." 

"Wait," Loki digs a finger in his ear, "What was that?" 

"Just go," Stephen pants. "This sanctum is going to fall. Those - the Kandorians, they're. They're intelligent. Attacking us at our homes, keeping us - separated," Stephen sways to his feet. He starts to mutter words; and it's like the worst Christmas ever. Because those are the words to the counter-spell that Loki has  _dreamed_ of, and yet, this is not at all how he wanted it to go. 

The walls simmer dead. Loki immediately presses a hand to a windowsill, and it's cool to the touch. 

There's an explosion outside. 

"They're here," Stephen inhales, and coughs from it. His voice booms, "Loki you have to  _GO."_

"Where is Thor?" 

"Battling a hoard alone in New Asgard," Stephen huffs. "There's not enough time to congregate. I need to stay with Wong." 

Another explosion shakes the walls. Oh, that’s the sound of bullets hitting the exterior shield. 

Well then. This should be his leave. 

"I do wish you good luck," Loki tips an imaginary hat. "You were an awful roommate, and I hated you. Goodbye!" 

Stephen stares after him. Cape tattered, arm clutching a wound at his side, throat still struggling to breathe. It should bring Loki joy. He reaches for the handle on the front door. It's cold and smooth and the doorhandle turns —  _freedom, finally, fresh air and —_

There's a war that's only just started. Ships and soldiers, drones marching in a mechanical line. It's easy for Loki to slip invisible. He's unsure where to go, but it's far,  _far_ from here. 

There’s humans running, screaming bloody murder. Women and children, people trapped under rubble.

Ha, sucks for them!

Wong is at the street corner. He's not looking great, barely holding his own against a squadron. Stephen limps out the door, and lifts his sigil shields. Loki won't feel bad to leave. Not at all — not after the hell he's been through. Hello freedom! Hello clouds! Loki runs down the street and passes another wave of soldiers. They’re robotic and grotesque, just as Loki remembered in the books he read, hundreds of years ago in mother's library. 

Books. Loki stops. Such a shame, those books. They'll be burned, all the spells and knowledge lost forever. Hm. 

Oh well —

There's screaming. Loki won't turn back. 

Bullets hitting a shield, bullets hitting rock, bullets hitting cement, bullets hitting skin - 

Nope. Nope nope nope.

Off in the distance, there's an even larger ship. A familiar, shiny,  pill-sized man is flying around it, taking fire and not looking good. New York is burning; except this time, it isn't nearly as fun. The air smells like dust and smoke and the sound of heavy metal against concrete. Still, amongst it all: 

_"Strange! Get out of here!"_

_"I'm not leaving!"_

_"You'll die!"_

 

Oh goddamn it. 

Loki clenches his fists, and stalks back towards the firefight. This is stupid. This is so  _stupid._

He angrily sends out a blast, revealing his location, but mowing down a few Kandorians on the way. "Stupid!" Loki shouts, and jams a knife into the chest of a robot that got too close. "My hate is beyond words, Stephen!" 

Strange looks up, half slumped over Wong's shoulders, "Loki?" 

"You're a fucking doctor, won't it kill you to learn an abjuration spell?" Once in reach, Loki slaps a hand over Stephen's neck, and heals it as quickly as he can. Ugh, red and sticky.

Wong focuses on a larger shield, and Loki begins to heal Stephen's side. 

"You can do that?" Wong jabs. "Where have you been this whole time?" 

"House arrest!" 

"Thank you," Stephen says. 

"You need to go help Stark," Loki says. "The two of you are stronger together, anyways." 

"If this sanctum falls, we'll have worse on our hands," Stephen strains to speak over the battle fire. 

"I got the damn sanctum, alright?" Loki snaps. "Just spin your little portal and go!" 

Stephen stares. Loki can physically see him trying to make a decision.

Leave it to Wong; he slaps Stephen at the back of his head and yells, “Go!”

Stephen nods. Without a second to lose, a portal opens into the floor, and Stephen steps through it.

“How long do you think you can hold them?” Wong asks. His shields are already breaking.

“Not long,” Loki spins his hands, trying to remember the in-ear he saw Stephen wearing. The replica isn’t bad – he puts it in and says, “I don’t remember abundant detail, but I know that ship is their wireless charger, so to say. We need to attack.”

“Meaning?”

 _“Take down the ships!”_ Tony cuts through his new in-ear. Loki grins. He knew it wouldn’t take Tony’s little AI very long to find him.  _“Fuck, Stephen you look like hell.”_

_“I’ve noticed. Were you able to establish contact with Wakanda?”_

Loki summons a jade sigil and attempts to cut through the machines. A large blast from the ship nearly chops the top off the sanctum.

_“Not at all. I can’t get ahold of Steve either.”_

Loki’s stomach drops against his own will. “Fuck, has anyone spoken with Parker?”

 _“No!”_ Tony’s voice cracks,  _“His tracker is dead and he won’t answer his phone.”_

_“I’ll work on sensing his energy – but we need to focus on stopping the civilian casualties.”_

_“I know, fuck! I know!”_  Tony snaps.

Loki must’ve spoke too soon, because a voice timidly speaks over the coms. 

_“…Sorry Mr.Stark.”_

_“Oh my god, kid!”_

“Shit,” Loki breathes. “That was not funny, Parker.”

_“Why the hell would you scare me like that?!”_

_“I’m sorry! I- I was at school and I had a feeling something bad was gonna’ happen! I had to sneak home and get Aunt May somewhere safe.”_

_“Why did you disable your tracker?”_  Stephen asks. There’s a crack in the distance, orange magic that bolts upwards, and Loki knows that’s his doing.

_“W-Well, Mr. Loki said that they were robotic, so I was worried they’d hack in and find me.”_

_“Oh my god I’m an idiot!”_ Tony yells,  _“The coms!”_

A hard blast sends Wong off his feet. Loki draws up a half shield with his Æsir until Wong is back on his knees.

Wong curses, and summons a spear, throwing it through a Kandorian before it can reach the Sanctum steps. “I thought we were prepared for this.”

 _“Obviously not,”_ Stephen says.  _“They’re tracking us through the wireless. I’m pulling mine-“_

The line goes dead.

_“Alright FRIDAY, send encrypted coordinates to whoever you can. Peter, Seventh and Twenty-Sixth.”_

_“Yes sir!”_

_“We’re flying analog now,”_ Tony says, and his line goes as well.

Loki sends out another wave of magic, and manages to sweep a few bots off their feet. He grins, the adrenaline kicking in now. “Are you ready, sorcerer?”

A lightning bolt snaps in the sky, white this time.

Wong laughs, “I think so now.”

 

~

 

It's nearly over by the time the sanctum is secured, and Wong has dropped Loki into the heart of the fight. Wakanda, the Avengers, Tony and Stephen and Peter - even those silly Guardians have responded to the distress call, and are cleaning up the stragglers. 

"Did you kill the queen?" Loki asks. He shields Thor's back, and then crosses his arms to repel a blast. 

"Uh, that would've been us~" That Peter Quill sings, and dances into a roundhouse kick. Loki likes his style.

"Then why are they still attacking?" 

"Muscle memory. You know, like when you kill a person and they're still kickin' afterwards," the raccoon says. "Aaany second now, the dickheads should-" 

They all flop to the ground. 

"Oh," Steve Rogers lets go of the robot he was holding, and lets it clatter. "Well that was..." 

"Horrible," Tony finishes. His helmet slides off, and yes, he has definitely looked better than this. 

"We won..." Peter trails. He throws his arms in the air, "We won!"

The excitement is immediate. Thor claps Loki on the back. 

"Thank you, brother." 

"Don't touch me." 

Stephen slides to his knees, pushed beyond his limits. There's blood all the way down his neck, dried from the wound, and there's bruising from his arms to his chest. His fingers are shaking so quickly you can hardly see them.

"Fuck, Stephen," Tony skids over to help him back to his feet. "You okay there?" 

"I should be...asking you that," Stephen pants. "You, you took a hard hit there. How's your head?" 

"Still ticking," Tony says. 

There's talking and bustling. The Captain is giving orders for search and rescue, people are celebrating, there's civilians cheering — but Loki turns, watching as those two egotistical geniuses stare dazedly into each other's eyes. 

It's almost if — oh, come  _on!_

Stephen braces his hand against the back of Tony's neck and Tony wraps his arms around Stephen's waist and they kiss like that's all they're fucking good for. 

"Uh," Peter pauses. "Haha— wow, would you look at that." 

"Unbelievable," Loki spits. Seriously?  _This_ is what does it? Covered in bruises and blood, half caked in sweat and tears? 

Alright, Loki can see the appeal. 

Tony sighs into the kiss like it's everything he ever wanted, and Stephen holds on like he'll be gone if he lets go, and Loki looks away, just to let them be. 

 

Later, when all that's left is the cleanup, Loki sits on the old debris of a car and rests, head on his knees, drifting in and out of consciousness. The car dips next to him, and Loki already knows who it is. 

"Brother." 

"Hm." 

"I'd like to apologize." 

Loki lifts his head, and bothers to look Thor in the eye. "Really? I better wake for this." 

"You've proven yourself to be different as you say. Many times already, and I didn't trust you." Thor scrubs his eyes, tired as well. Loki still doesn't like that brown one. He'd rather it be empty and red, than something it's not. "I'm sorry I locked you up with the wizard, instead of trusting you." 

"No," Loki shakes his head, and lays back down on his knees. "You'd be an idiot to trust me." 

"You can go," Thor says, voice quiet. 

"Huh?" 

"With the guardians." Thor gestures, "If you...want off this planet. I will no longer stop you." 

Loki lets that sink in. He thinks about it. And then barks a cold laugh. 

"As if. Why would I leave?"

"I...I know not. What  _do_  you want, Loki?" 

Loki hums. "I want to rebuild Asgard. I want to rule with you. I want my PS4." 

Thor laughs, and Loki smiles into his arms. Thor pats him on the back, a little more gentle this time. 

"Come home, brother." 

 

 ~

 

These lands are cold, but beautiful. Nothing will ever be like Asgard, but that's a truth that Loki will just have to swallow. 

He's not fond of physical labor. Loki spends most of his time doing all the diplomatic necessities that Thor detests. Not Loki, no, this is his _passion._ He cannot wait for the American government to step foot on their soil, he's rehearsing what he'll say in the mirror. 

Homes have been built, soon businesses, eventually a capitol. Thor wants some sort of diplomacy. Loki is still working on a compromise. 

Time has passed quickly since the invasion — but Loki's body still tenses like livewire when he hears the familiar sound of a portal. He spins in place, and stares dumbly as Stephen and Tony walk through, the remnants of the Sanctum behind them. 

 "Hey," Tony grins. "It's our favorite little twink. How're the stabby urges?" 

"Increasing by the minute." 

"We came to see if you needed help," Stephen says. He's in civilian clothes, a shirt with pushed up sleeves and jeans. Loki wants to smile, but he doesn't.

Instead he feigns indifference and shrugs, "We could use some money." 

Tony laughs, "How're the work crews? Do you need more men?" 

Loki looks to the construction vehicles labeled  _Stark_ on the side. 

"That's a Thor question," Loki says. "I'm attempting to singlehandedly rewrite a government here." 

"The feds aren't real happy you're back." 

"Isn't it great?" 

“The Avengers will vouch for you as much as we can,” Tony says. “The rest is going to be up to good behavior and gold stars.”

“How dull,” Loki sighs.

"We brought you this," Stephen says, and out of his pocket dimension, summons- 

"My PS4!" Loki takes it, and clutches it to his chest. "Oh, I'm delighted." 

“You never even played it.”

“It has nice shelf appeal.”

"Do you mind if I give you a bit of advice?" Tony laughs. "Stop tweeting about New Asgard. People are already trying to book flights here." 

"Tourism..." Loki mutters. "We could do away with a sales tax if we take in enough travelers. Smart thinking, Stark. I will continue to promote our beaches." Loki gestures to an extremely rocky and unappealing beach, with waves of ice-cold water. 

Stephen rolls his eyes, and Loki is hit with this weird wave of nostalgia. That Sanctum was hell, but for reasons Loki cannot discern, he has fond memories of it.

There's a moment of silence, but not really. Beach waves, construction bells, Thor yelling in the background  _no no no! don't run over the rabbit! -_

"We wanted to thank you," Stephen finally says. "For, uh..." 

"Stephen told me about you playing matchmaker," Tony bumps him with his elbow, and Loki bristles from it. "That was...nice. You didn't have to do that." 

"It was entertaining," Loki settles on.

"Wong wants to know if you'll be back to finish your game." 

"Well surely." Loki continues, "And be sure to send Peter. We're supposed to watch  _Terminator."_

Tony scrubs a hand through his hair and shakes his head, "The Asgardian God and the highschool Junior from Queens. That sounds like the start of a bad joke." 

"We'll see you around," Stephen says, preparing to step back through the portal. Tony tucks his hand in Stephen’s, and...it's...cute. 

"I sure hope not," Loki says. 

"Stop vaguing about me on twitter!" Tony calls. Loki refuses to agree to that. 

Just as the portal is closing, Loki is left feeling warm. That interaction was almost...nice. Too nice, if you ask Loki. So just as the last glimpse of the sanctum starts to close, Loki turns their hair into snakes, and laughs at the screams. 

Thor stops, dead lifting an H-beam, "What was that?"

“The sound of comedy, brother.”

 

~

 

**Lowkey**

@ihateithere001

_Athena turned Medusa into a beast as an act of kindness. But I would've loved to hear her laugh, because shit, that’s pretty damn funny_

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**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://zanimez.tumblr.com/)


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